


The Family Stein

by HungLikeARainbro



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cats, Family Fluff, Gen, Humor, Just Add Kittens, mild sexual humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HungLikeARainbro/pseuds/HungLikeARainbro
Summary: It's not just the human crew that are recreated by the Nanobots, as Cat discovers during his vent explorations.Based on a prompt in the RD Discord - What if Frankenstein was revived too?





	1. I'm Gonna Get You Little Monster!

**Author's Note:**

> I've only seen the dreaded 7-8 a couple of times so forgive any inaccuracies about time or locations.

“He’s probably off wandering as usual, you know how cats are.”

Rimmer reordered his cards as his nostrils flared worriedly. “Yes I do, Lister. They’re tiny, smelly, annoying creatures – basically they’re furry ‘you’s."

“Rimmer, you’ve been fiddling with your cards for five minutes. Just play or fold,” Lister said, choosing to ignore the insult. 

“It’s not fair,” Rimmer snapped, throwing the pile onto the table. “Strip poker is supposed to be fun but here _we_ are in our pants and _she’s_ not lost even a hair tie.”

Kochanski smiled sweetly at her half-naked companions. “I warned you I was an inter-planetary champion. It’s not my fault you two are so desperate for a peek of female flesh that you’d risk your own integrity.”

“Lucky for us we don’t have any,” said Lister as he threw down his pair of twos against her three queens and then pulled off a sock much to the others’ nose-wrinkling dismay. “Anyway, Cat’s poker face is even worse than Rimmer’s. That’s why he doesn’t play the strip version. Too risky.”

“What?” Rimmer gasped. “I have a great poker face.”

Kochanski gave Lister a quick glance of ‘do you want to tell him or should I?’ but it was clear from Lister’s nonchalant avoidance of her eyes that he was passing the buck. “Well,” she said slowly as she searched for the kindest way to put it, “When you get a bad hand you tend to… you have a habit of…”

“She’s trying to say your nostrils resemble a pair of sphincters after curry night.”

Rimmer began to throw a strop and Cat was glad he’d stayed up in the air vents where he could possibly glimpse a naked Kochanski without compromising his own outfit. He watched the tantrum for a little longer until he was bored and then slipped away deeper down the shafts. He paused now and then at vents he’d marked for interest – above the women’s showers, above the women’s changing room, above the women’s toilets, etc. The only non-sexual vent was the kitchens, but he enjoyed food on an orgasmic level so it technically still counted.

He had a perfect mental map of the ventilation system so he knew he was nearing the boiler room after an hour. There was nothing of interest down there though it was pleasant when he was feeling unwell to curl up near the heat. He went straight past the turning and headed towards the cells for his main snooze when he heard something zipping across the gap behind him. He froze in position and carefully turned his head. Something black shot past again.

“Hey!” he called out. “If you’re a monster don’t eat me. I’m too pretty to be poop.” Whatever it was didn’t seem interested in eating, or replying, so Cat turned around and slunk down the vent to where the dark mass had gone. “Curiosity’s gonna kill me,” he moaned to himself. “It’s gonna kill me and eat me and all that’s gonna be left is a beautiful bespoke suit.”

He suddenly felt his hand give way underneath him as it went through a broken grate. He could hear the low deep thrum of the boilers below. He slipped down from the shaft and spun around surveying the room keenly.

“I got you now, Mystery Creature,” he laughed, feeling a little full of himself now that he was on solid ground. The black mass darted out between his legs and he pounced forward. The creature swiped at him with sharp claws and he was left howling on the floor. “My face! My beautiful face!” 

After a few moments of squirming he took out his mirror to check the damage. Three thin raised lines pooled with blood decorated his high cheek bones. “Oh it is ON now,” he declared loudly. “I’m gonna get you, Little Monster!”

He pulled out a tiny first aid kit from his jacket and dabbed at his wounds with a wince.

He stopped dabbing.

In the reflection he could see (and bear in mind it was extremely hard to not look at just himself) a pair of amber eyes close to the ground behind him. He moved in slow-motion as he put the mirror away and tilted his head to look at the creature. Its pupils dilated a little as it followed his movement.

It took a while but he eventually shifted so that he was facing the creature and as he adjusted his body into a comfortable position he found there was enough light to see its shape; a small, hunched body, with pointed ears flattened against its head, long whiskers and a thin tail flicking angrily behind, and all black.

Cat’s eyes widened. “Holy Mother!”


	2. The Cat That Got No Cream

Frankenstein hissed sharply when Cat tried to crawl closer and then continued to growl in her throat as it became clear to her that he wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

Cat stared. So this was his great-great-great-etc-grandmother, if he believed what Holly and the ancient books of scentures from Kitty School said. He’d been forced to listen to the stories from the P’urran when he was younger and he’d hated every minute of it. It cut into his valuable tailoring time.

Besides, The Cats did not like to think of a time outside of their own existence. As far as each was concerned they were the only thing that mattered and for them to not exist was unimaginable and so they couldn’t fathom anything beyond themselves; therefore it was difficult for the wise and enlightened elders to convince the youngsters to abandon this line of thinking and learn their lessons and also be more conscious of others beyond breeding time.

Cat suddenly recalled that there might have been two other people apart from the Cat Priest at those sermons; an older female that refused his horny teenage advances, and some other guy. He realised with a shudder that the female must have been his mother. Obviously he took after Lister in the Oedipal department.

He didn’t remember when they stopped turning up to the sermons. They must have wandered off and died, like most animals, and Cat never noticed because it was nothing to do with him and there were no familial words in their language as there was no family in their society. They used the term Holy Mother for Frankenstein in English because it was the closest example. In the original Cat language it was more literally ‘Birther from the Beginning’.

He stared again at the tiny black cat. She was still swishing her tail but it was less bushy and her ears had lifted.

“I’m hungry,” he told her. “I’ve been here for like a million hours. And look at my perfect skin. It’s humid in here, and hot, and you freaking scratched me. Grandmas are supposed to bake cookies and knit ugly sweaters. Not ruin their grandkid’s good looks.”

She squinted at him.

“I’m going to get food and then I’m coming back,” he said firmly. “Someone needs to make sure you don’t cause any more beauty accidents and those dumb monkeys can’t match my quick moves. You’ve finally met your match, Grandma!” He hopped up into the ventilation shaft and with a mocking hiss he disappeared.

After a few minutes of silence, Frankenstein relaxed and began to wash her face.

**///**

“What happened to your cheek?” Kochanski gasped in horror when Cat strolled in.

“This bitch scratched me,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

Lister looked concerned. “You didn’t ask to see her scent glands did you? I keep telling you that’s not a pick-up line with human women.”

“Ew no, it was some old hag. Got milk?”

“Of course not. This is a prison cell, idiot,” Rimmer scoffed. Cat went and checked under their bunks anyway.

“Cat mate, we haven’t got any contraband right now. We can smuggle you some milk if you really want but you’ll have to wait.”

“How can he even drink milk if he’s a cat? Aren’t they allergic?” said Rimmer who seemed suspiciously delighted at the notion.

“They are?” Cat whipped up his head. “Am I gonna die?”

“No,” said Kochanski gently. “Domestic cats are, but your kind probably exposed yourself over the years and got used to it. Like us.”

“Woah, really?” asked Lister, genuinely fascinated.

“Oh yes. That’s why in ethnicities where milk wasn’t originally a staple part of the diet within their society intolerance is still very common. Japan for example.”

Rimmer scoffed again. “Oh there it is – any excuse for Kristine Kawaiiski to drop in that she knows Japanese.”

“Kawaii in the streets, Sugoi in the sheets,” she replied and Lister gave her a high-five. Rimmer didn’t get it and just sat and grumbled to himself.

Cat had already left and headed through the ducts to the kitchens. Petersen didn’t know much about cats either, but he gave him a bottle of water and a plate of some plain de-boned cooked fish and chicken on the sly.

**///**

Cat sat in front of Frankenstein and gleefully chewed his meal. The little cat’s nose twitched like Rimmer’s did during poker, but she didn’t move.

“Mmmmm,” said Cat, theatrically enjoying the food to deliberately tease her. “Mmm, this fish is SO good!” It wasn’t. It was boring and unseasoned. “But she deserves every second of this,” he muttered as his cheek throbbed with each movement of his jaw.

He was hamming it up so much he didn’t even notice that she’d crawled close enough to sniff his plate. He yowled at the wet nose against his hand and she ran back into her corner in fright and yowled back. He stared at her for a moment and then against all his natural selfishness he picked up a bit of the chicken and threw it towards her.

She frowned at it.

“Wow, talk about ungrateful. That was the dark meat too. That’s the best bit.”

She frowned at him.

“Fine,” he said. “I’m bored anyway. Have your dirty piece of chicken when you feel like it. I’m out of here.”

He tipped the remains of his meal on the floor, poured some of the water onto the plate and jumped back up into the ventilation system.


	3. Stuck On You

Lister had noticed Cat spending more and more time away from them all. He disappeared after breakfast, returned for lunch, disappeared again, came back for dinner, and was gone again until lights out.

“Maybe he’s found a girlfriend,” was Kochanski’s suggestion. Lister hoped not. He’d seen what Cat had to offer a lady when the previous hologram version of Rimmer had borrowed his body. They’d both stared in horror at his lower parts for a good ten minutes, which admittedly was a weird way to pass the time with one’s bunkmate.

“A girlfriend who wants him to bring a doggy bag of every meal,” Rimmer said blithely. “What a keeper.”

They would never have guessed that he was taking care of his ancestor but that was what he was doing even if he would never admit it. He just _happened_ to be ordering cat-safe food for his meals, and it just _happened_ to be too much for him, and he just _happened_ to have it on him whenever he went to visit her.

Nevertheless, Frankenstein was grateful for the picnics although her eyes barely left Cat’s as she nibbled and paused to scrutinise him after every mouthful.

“Slow down, it’s not like you need all those calories. You’re big enough already,” he said as she finished and began cleaning herself. “Wait… if you were going to be my grandma, that means you’re going to one day have kittens. But there’s no dude cat on the ship, and you need a dude cat to make kittens, right? Oh! Oh shit! Is this one of those time-travel, other-universe things where I have to become my own grandfather? Gross!”

She licked at her rounded stomach as if she knew what he was talking about and was trying to put him at ease.

“Heeeyyyy of course! You’re not fat, you’re already pregnant. Phew!”

He shuffled closer and although her ears flicked back she didn’t run away.

“Preggo, huh? I hope you make less fuss than Gerbil-features did. ‘Caaaaat – give me back my pillow, my feet hurt. Caaaaat – stop tweezing and get out the bathroom, I need to pee. Caaaaat – you can’t come in the operating theatre in your normal clothes.’ That guy expected me to wear scrubs! No sense of fashion at all, or any concern for how he was inconveniencing me. That was the hardest time of my life.”

She made a little snorting sound as she nibbled into the fur at the base of her tail.

“I like you, Grandma,” he said with a yawn and settled into the piles of cloth Frankenstein had dragged into her secret corner in preparation for the birth. “You don’t answer me back. Or make me do work, or yell at me, or call me stupid.”

She curled up into a loaf-shape nearby; watching him, but not as vigilantly as before.

**///**

At first Cat wondered if he was having a heart attack when he woke up to a slight pressure on his chest. He opened an eye in worry and saw the satisfied smirk of a contented Frankenstein as she slumbered on him. He attempted to wriggle her off but she simply untucked her paws from under her chest and dug into his clothes.

Cat was horrified. “This is suede, you know! Get your claws out of my jacket.” She blinked slowly at him and began to make a strange sound reminiscent of the long pink plastic object he had found in Kochanski’s underwear drawer one time.

As much as he immensely hated to furrow his brow because of all the wrinkles it would cause, furrow his brow was what he did as Frankenstein continued to purr happily and kneaded his chest. Each little pinprick of a claw into the material of his jacket was like a dagger into his own heart. And yet he was easily losing the battle of wills. The deeper she purred the less he wriggled, and the more his body relaxed and just sank back into the sheets in resignation.

Grandmas were powerful people.


	4. Emergency. Emergency. There's an Emergency Going On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a Kryten.

Cat ran a lint roller over his clothes and looked at Frankenstein giving an irritated click of his tongue. “Where does it all come from?” he remarked and grimaced as he held out the tufts of fur that the roller had picked up. “You’re so small and there’s so much of it. Just… just… _how?_ ”

She dug zealously into the sheets and pulled them around into a cosy-looking cave of fabric.

“You don’t even care, do you? My clothes are ruined and you’re making the bed like it’s nothing. Like no-one is more important than you are.” He paused thoughtfully. “Huh. You’re even more ‘cat’ than I am. You need to teach me your ways.”

He left her to her own devices and went back to his cell where his smuggled and revamped suit collection was homed. After cleaning and changing he felt much better except for where his back had locked up from sleeping awkwardly all afternoon. He went to see the others gathered as usual in the Listy-Rimsy cell and collapsed face first onto Rimmer’s bunk with a pained groan.

“What’s wrong honey?” asked Kochanski.

“Bad nap. My back hurts.”

“Poor baby, how about a massage?”

Lister and Rimmer spluttered indignantly when Cat nodded at her with large doleful eyes and she dutifully knelt next to the bunk and began to squeeze his lower back.

“You’ve never offered to massage my back,” Lister muttered.

“Well, does it hurt?”

“It can in a minute. Rimmer, kick me.”

“Gladly.”

**///**

After laughing himself almost sick when Rimmer broke his toe on Lister’s spine (and neither of them getting any sympathy or massages from Kochanski) Cat fetched some dinner and went back to see Frankenstein. She had hidden herself away within her blanket fortress and wouldn’t come out, even when he waved some sushi-grade salmon at her. She hissed at him and lay down as her sides began to rapidly rise and fall. Cat began to worry about her and the kittens. He wasn’t good at worrying – except about what to wear; over his many years with Lister and co. he’d learned that one never knew if it was going to be a day of lounging in the bunkroom or running for your life through a jungle being chased by bearbees.

As tough as it was to admit, he needed help. But he didn’t know who to go to.

Rimmer was Rimmer, so he was out of the question. He liked Kochanski. She was smart and sensible and (very usefully) a woman, so she would be best out of all of them to decipher Frankenstein’s problem. But she was also a goody two-shoes and he was sure she would go running straight to Hollister. He knew all about his original plans for Frankenstein, and how it was why Lister ended up in stasis.

He could trust Lister to keep the secret again, but whether he was smart enough to help a sick cat, he wasn’t sure. Kryten probably had some science-magic way of scanning her and finding the exact issue but the moment anyone in authority questioned him he would break immediately, as far as he had come with his ability to lie and scheme and other human activities.

Cat decided to grab Kryten and Lister for balance. The robot for his knowledge, and the human because Kryten found it difficult to betray his precious Mr Lister.

“Hang tight, Grandma,” he yowled and dove into the vents. “I’ll save you!”

Frankenstein lifted her head, mewing whatever the cat equivalent of, “I’m just giving birth, you moron,” was.

**///**

Kryten had found his calling within the women’s jail. As furious as he’d been to be put there over outdated sexual characteristics nonsense, he was now having the time of his life. Women did not enjoy cleaning as much as media would have the world believe. They liked to _be_ clean, but apart from a select few there was little joy to be gained from plunging the toilets after every use for the average woman. Kryten was their saviour and in repayment they taught him how to take better care of himself. They regularly helped him buff his head and hands with leather cleaner. His synthetic skin was now baby soft and he was eternally grateful.

It was almost lights out when Cat turned up but Kryten’s cellmates were happy to distract the guards whilst he went away on a secret mission. Cat refused to say what it was but the moment he name-dropped Lister, Kryten was firmly on board.

Lister was harder to obtain. He refused to go into the ducts at first, even with the reassurance that they could hold Kryten’s size and weight. So now there was the issue of getting him past the guards outside the cells as well as inside. Lister promised Cat he would work something out and sent them on ahead. Cat was reluctant but at least he had Kryten in tow. They made their way through the ventilation system at top speed and hoped they’d get there in time.


	5. Mum's the Word

“Oh dear,” said Kryten when he saw the tiny black cat panting miserably. “She must have been recreated with the rest of the crew.”

“I guessed that, I’m not stupid. What’s wrong with her?”

“If you’d told me beforehand what the secret was I could have downloaded some relevant information. I’m afraid I’m as clueless as you are, Cat.”

“Great.” Cat sunk down near Frankenstein’s bed as closely as she’d allow him. “Now what?”

“I suggest we stay with her and keep her fed and hydrated.”

“She won’t eat.”

“If that’s true then it’s possibly quite serious, I’m afraid.”

Cat slumped further back into the sheets. There was a weird pain in his stomach and it wasn’t hunger. He didn’t like it.

**///**

It wasn’t long before they heard Lister calling from the doorway of the boiler room. Kryten led him to their position urging him to stay quiet but the moment he saw Frankenstein he was audibly excited. “Frankie! Where’ve you bin, eh?”

His face fell instantly when she hissed at him.

“Hey c’mon…”

“Don’t take it personally sir. She’s in a lot of discomfort.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s just having the kittens,” said Cat.

Kryten was stunned. “I thought you had no idea what was wrong? What in Silicon Heaven brought you to that conclusion?”

Cat pointed to his first clue – a small slimy wriggling ball next to Frankenstein. She turned around and dutifully licked the kitten clean and nudged it towards her milk. The three of them watched completely enthralled as three more appeared and were soon squeaking and kneading at their nonchalant mother’s tummy.

“Told you that you were making a fuss over those twins,” said Cat to Lister. “She had four no problem.”

“Bit of a difference mate.” Lister stood up with a crack of aging bones and motioned for Kryten to follow him to a corner for a private talk. “Kryts, what are we going to do about this?”

“Sir?”

“Hollister’s going to find them sooner or later, especially if they start breeding like last time. And we can’t exactly pop down the local vet for a snip, can we?”

“I see the issue, sir.”

“Hopefully Kris will know what to do…”

“What?!”

Lister and Kryten jumped. They’d forgotten how good Cat’s senses could be.

“No no!” he cried in dismay. “You can’t tell Officer Babe, and definitely not Scouring-Pad Head.”

“Obviously we wouldn’t tell Rimmer,” Lister said soothingly. “But you can’t hide these guys forever.”

“I can’t believe you’re selling us out.”

“I’m not. Look, Frankenstein is my pet in the first pla-”

“Whoa, whoa, pet? _Pet?_ That’s my grandma you’re talking about.”

“Sir, for now let’s keep this between us.”

“Kryten!”

“The kittens are far too small to be moved, they’re only minutes old, sir.”

“Alright man, you’ve got a point. Cat, our lips are sealed. Promise.”

Cat relaxed and turned back to the snug little family. Lister joined him, barely containing his delight at the cute little bundles and Kryten went to fetch some fresh food and water for when Frankenstein was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In the book there were only four kittens so that's what I went with.**


	6. Pushing Buttons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Cat or Frankie this chapter :(

Kochanski and Rimmer cornered Lister the moment he got back. “So what was that all about?” Rimmer snapped.

“Just a bit of a thing with Cat. Lost a button – he was in a right tizzy when I got there. Thanks for distracting the guards for me by the way you two.”

“Oh,” said Kochanski in surprise. “Did Rimmer do that too?”

“Yes,” he muttered unhappily, “and it was completely embarrassing. I don’t care what Todhunter’s webpage says; I have never flirted with another man in my life before now. But at least I wasn’t the only one making a fool of myself.”

“Actually my interpretation of distracting the guard was that I simply recited all the currently known elements in song form.”

Rimmer’s mouth gaped at her in shock. “What?! Lister! You told me to flirt with the guard!”

“Didn’t expect you to actually do it,” Lister chortled from behind his hand. “Did it work?”

“I think I might have a date next Friday,” Rimmer mumbled wearing a bright blush and refused to say any more about it.

**///**

Neither Kochanksi nor Rimmer was satisfied with Lister’s explanation. For one thing the Cat wasn’t that bad with his attention seeking and for another he would never come to Lister for fashion help even if it was just crawling under things to find a lost button.

“He’s up to something. Something he is up to. To something he is up,” said Rimmer. “Holly?”

“Up something he is to,” he offered helpfully before biffing off out of boredom.

Kochanski put down her manga and asked, “And what do you suggest we do? He’s not going to tell us.”

“Can’t you manipulate it out of him?”

“What makes you think I can do that?”

“You’re his mother. Mumsie was always able to get anything out of us by hook or by crook. Quiet often literally.”

It had taken a while for Kochanski to get her head around Rimmer’s ability to casually mention childhood trauma in ordinary conversation but it still concerned her. “Let’s put a pin in that for now,” she said calmly. “I don’t want to bully Lister into revealing sensitive information, especially about a friend.”

“That ridiculous moggy isn’t a friend. He just happened to exist at the same time that no-one else did, and Lister had no choice in the friendship. Same as with that robot. And that holo-whatever.”

“Oh dear,” said Kochanski as she went back to reading about the tumultuous relationship between Deibu-kun and his senpai. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous.”

“Pah! And I’ll say it again – pah!” said Rimmer and went for a fast-paced walk to use up some of his pent-up frustrations.

**///**

In the end they both got fed up and the next night Lister had barely put his toes under his blanket before the pair of them surrounded his bunk.

“I had a dream that started out like this,” said Lister, “but I don’t think what happened in that is what’s going to happen now.”

“Tell us what you and RoboMop were up to, you cretin,” said Rimmer. “I refuse to believe the Artist formally known as Cat would ever come to you for help unless it was something incredibly important.”

“Well now that you mention it…” 

“Yes?” Rimmer asked, quivering eagerly.

“…it was a very shiny button.”

“David,” Kochanski purred solicitously as she sat down close to him. “You can let _me_ know, right? You know _I’d_ never tell.”

Lister gulped. Maybe the dream _was_ going to happen. “Sorry, Kris, it’s nothing personal. Me and Kryten promised Cat, and the ‘Boys from the Dwarf’ keep a promise.”

“Oh.” Kochanski got up abruptly and stood next to Rimmer, folding her arms as he was doing. “Didn’t realise your little ‘Boys from the Dwarf’ thing was such a clique.”

“It’s not!”

“No no, we get it,” said Rimmer sadly. “We’re not part of your family of misfits. We’ll always be ‘others’ to you.”

“Aw… hey…”

“I mean I tried, Rimmer,” said Kochanski as she sobbed into her hands. “I really tried to fit in with them.”

Rimmer patted her shoulder gingerly. “I’m sure you did, ma’am. It’s them. It’s all them.”

They left Lister squirming guilty in his bunk as Rimmer escorted her sobbing form out of their cell whereupon she wiped her face dry and strode off back to her own with a cheerful whistle.

Rimmer shook his head in wonder. She was almost as good as his mother.


	7. Kiss Me Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rimmer absolutely does not like kittens, especially ones named Dave.

“Oh you asshole,” said Cat when Lister wandered into the boiler room with a sheepish smile and his mother and bunkmate in tow. “I can’t believe you told those guys.”

“I held out as long as I could,” said Lister. This was true, as the kittens were now three weeks old and attempting to go from crawling around on milk-rounded bellies to wobbly steps on stumpy legs.

Kochanski pushed past the boys and cooed at the wriggling brood. “Oooh, they’re precious!”

“You won’t tell the captain-dude right?”

“Of course we won’t,” she assured the Cat.

“Ahem,” Rimmer coughed abruptly. “I’ve promised no such thing.”

“C’mon man,” said Lister, holding up the smallest kitten. It squeaked in Rimmer’s disgust-contorted face. Lister laughed at them. “See, he likes you. Give him a smooch.”

“Cats like eating insects and chasing red dots so I shan’t put much stock in that,” Rimmer scoffed. Lister shoved the kitten into his hands anyway and he stood there gawping at it as if it were a freshly laid turd.

Kochanski was snuggling one of the other kittens when Lister joined her next to Frankenstein’s nest, much to Cat’s annoyance. He didn’t like all these humans messing around with his… Cat paused. There was a word for it and he had a feeling it began with ‘F’. Felony, maybe.

“Careful!” he hissed when the kitten almost slipped out of Kochanski’s hands. “Clumsy monkeys.”

“I can’t help it,” she snapped back. “He’s so wiggly.”

“She,” he corrected. “You’re holding Jewelled Cravat.”

The humans all stared blankly at him. “Holding what?” said Rimmer, struggling with his own kitten. He popped it into his shirt pocket for safety.

“You monkeys are so obsessed with giving names to stuff, I figured I'd make things easier for you. So I named them after my favourite clothes. She’s Jewelled Cravat because she has a little white spot on her chest.”

“That’s adorable,” said Kochanski as she handed her kitten to Lister and picked up another. “What about this one?”

“He’s Cuban Heels.”

“Because of his little white socks? Oh I love it!”

Kryten held up his kitten and proudly stated, “And this sweet little lady is Feather Collar. Her fur is slightly more tufted around the neck.”

“What about my one?” Rimmer asked eagerly and then tried to cover it up with a thorough throat-clearing. “Er, I mean, what about this little runt?”

“Well,” said Cat carefully, “he’s the smallest but fattest. So I was gonna call him Lister.”

Lister pouted. “Mate! That’s a bit harsh!”

“Don’t worry bud, I changed my mind. I thought it’d get confusing.”

Rimmer smiled sneakily. “You could call him Dave. We hardly ever call Lister that.” Lister glared at him but the others agreed it was a wonderful idea. “What’s wrong Listy?” Rimmer simpered sweetly as he nuzzled the little black head peeking out from his pocket when Lister continued glaring at him. “I thought you wanted me to kiss the kitten. Kiss wee little Dave.”

"Just wondering where my kiss is. I'm Dave too,” he snarked back.

“I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man alive.”

“Hey guy, I _was_ the last man alive.”

“And did I kiss you?”

“Not officially.” Lister took a cigarette from behind his ear and grinned at Rimmer’s slack jawed expression.

Rimmer squeaked, “What’s that supposed to mean?!” but Lister was already lighting up and walking away. The others, also shocked by the revelation, watched him dash out after Lister, return ten seconds later to dump Dave into Cat’s hands and then dash out again yelling in a wild and high-pitched manner.


	8. There Are No Vets in Space

The following weeks went by with little hassle. The kittens grew more confident and their energy was infectious. Little Dave and Cuban Heels in particular loved to climb up Mt. Rimmer whenever he appeared; he complained each time that they dug their tiny foot-needles into his legs and scaled his wiry frame and yet made no move to stop them.

Feather Collar’s neck fur grew further outward and she had the air about her of a woman who had divorced two husbands and buried the third. Jewelled Cravat adored Cat the most and especially loved to sit on his shoulder so as to chew his hair and play with his fishbone earring.

Lister and Kochanski were completely jealous that the kittens preferred him and Rimmer but as Kryten gently pointed out, cats generally gravitated towards quieter people who practically ignored them over those that squealed loudly at the mere sight of them.

“I can’t help getting excited,” Lister moaned. “They’re so cute!”

“They don’t like me either, sir. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve almost stepped on them and now they hate me.”

“They don’t hate you. They just don’t want their tails crushed.”

“It’s their own fault!” Kryten cut up their chicken with a stress-induced vigour. “Why must they walk directly in front of me, sir? Why?”

“Because you’re the one who's usually got their dinner. If you fall flat on your face they can get at it quicker.” Lister took the first plate from him to be helpful and manoeuvered his way around the winding bodies that had materialised at the smell of food and were mewing impatiently below him. “Alright babies, nommies time.”

Cat was sat up in relief when Lister approached Frankie's den. She and her brood had been using him as a pillow as they slept over the course of the midmorning. Cat wailed, “I haven’t styled my hair for two hours!” He patted his flattened head. “There’s more knots up there than in a… a…”

“A Quipu?” Kryten offered as he came in with the rest of the food.

“I’ve no idea what that is,” said Cat, whipping out his mirror and grieving his terrible reflection.

“It's truly fascinating. You see, in South America they used to-”

Cat waved Kryten’s words away and pulled out a comb and some hairspray. “I’m sorry, Metal Man. I must’ve given you the false impression I was interested. My bad.”

“Cat, don’t be mean to him,” said Lister and patted the forlorn mechanoid. “I know you’re grumpy from not having a proper nap but there’s no need. You should’ve just shoved them off if they were bothering you.”

“Shove them off?!” Cat gasped in horror. “What kind of monster do you think I am? They’re growing kittens. They need a good twenty-two hours of sleep per day _at least_!”

Lister raised an eyebrow. He suspected it had more to do with them being too adorable to disturb but he didn’t call the Cat out on it. He had to admit he’d have lain there stock-still for two hours as well. He pulled Kryten aside for a private consultation. “Listen, that reminds me - Cat’s brought up something important we need to talk about. They’re getting bigger, and older. More mature, if you catch my drift.”

“Sir?”

“We’re going to have to have a frank discussion with him about the birds and the bees. Or y'know, the toms and the queens.”

“Indeed, sir. We don’t want the same problem as last time, but I can’t see how we can avoid it without separating them by their sex. They’ll be so sad, sir.”

“Not to mention all the noise they’ll make when they go into season. Someone will definitely find them then. Is there any way you could learn how to…” Lister made a scissor motion with his fingers. “We could steal some medical equipment.”

“Even if I downloaded all the veterinary books on file, there are so many risks, sir. Lack of hygiene, incorrect levels of anaesthesia, blood loss. They're so tiny, and we don't have any replacement blood, aside from their mother.”

“It’s even more risky to have incestuously pregnant kittens,” said Lister and glanced over at the happy little clan purring and chewing noisily as Cat sniffed a book and read aloud to them about the do’s and do not's of tartan wear.

Lister wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.


	9. Erotic Diagram

Kochanski wasn't entirely sure how Lister had roped her into explaining the kitten quandry to Cat. He'd appealed to her ego at first - "you're so much better at this sort of thing" - and then to her empathy - "we can't let those poor kittens go through such an awful situation" - and finally all he had to do was bat his big brown eyes hopefully and she was completely duped. So there she was, smiling painfully at a confused Cat, and holding up a hastily drawn diagram of what she hoped was the reproductive system of the average domestic feline.

"So what is it?" he asked.

"Cat, we need to talk to you about neutering."

"Is that the guy who stopped apples from floating off into space?"

"Uh no, that's Newton and that's not what he- forget it, never mind, we'll come back to that." She took a deep breath and glared at Lister. He and Rimmer threw up their thumbs at her in support. She took another breath. "The problem is that the kittens are going to get certain urges soon. Very natural urges, of course, but ones that we need to discourage."

Whilst Kochanski continued and pointed intermittently at her diagram, Rimmer shook his head and whispered to Lister, "She's using too many big words. He'll never understand.

"You can hardly talk," said Lister. "You thought the fallopian tube was something to do with bicycle wheels."

"All I mean is that she only has to tell him the main point, which is that we have to-"

"YOU'RE GOING TO CHOP OFF THEIR DICKS???"

Rimmer practically jumped into Lister's lap in fright at Cat's sudden screech. Lister gently pushed him off and went to help Kochanski calm the Cat down. "Hey mate, hey… that's not what happens."

"Of course not," said Rimmer. "It's only their testicles that gets removed."

Cat fainted.

"Rimmer!"

"I was trying to help!"

"Well stop helping," said Kochanski as she and Lister sat the Cat back up. He mumbled incoherently for a few seconds until one of the kittens crawled onto his crotch; the sight reminded him of the predicament they faced and he fainted again. "Perfect," Kochanski huffed. "Just perfect."

Lister picked up little Dave from Cat's lap and passed him to Rimmer who cuddled the kitten eagerly. It purred and dug inside his favourite shirt pocket as usual. Lister rubbed Kochanski's shoulder soothingly. "Eh, Kris, don't be down. He reacted like most blokes would. It's not something he's ever had to think about before."

"Exactly," she snapped. "Birth control means nothing to you 'blokes' until the problem is right on your doorstep. Try having it be at the forefront of your mind from your very first period."

"C'mon, that's not fair," said Lister. "I've literally been pregnant."

"And how pray tell did that happen?"

"Uh…"

"Because you didn't think about protection, because you didn't think it would be _your_ problem."

Lister was affronted. "I'm normally very responsible about stuff like that. Just so happens I was blind drunk at the time."

"Only ever that time?" said Rimmer smarmily. "Face it, Listy, you could have left little scouser seeds all over the galaxy three million years ago. Actually that's a horrifying thought - a population of Listers!"

"Oh yeah? I met a whole planet of your clones. That's a lot worse."

"Sounds heavenly," Rimmer shot back. "Give me the coordinates and I'll head there immediately."

Kochanski decided that was enough banter for the moment and squeezed between them. "Alright boys, finish your peacocking later. We have to wake up Cat."

"You know Lister," said Rimmer, completely ignoring Kochanski, "if we still had the time wand our problem would be solved. We could make Frankenstein a kitten again. No more pregnancy, not to mention she'd be easier to hide."

"I don't know if that would get rid of the kittens, since they've _already been born_ ," Kochanski pondered out loud. She was a mite steamed at being spoken over and if anyone could do passive-aggressive better than Rimmer it was her.

"Worth a try," Rimmer sniped.

Lister was aghast. "You'd seriously get rid of the babies?"

"I wouldn't want to." Rimmer could feel Little Dave vibrating happily against his chest and he patted the lump fondly. "I'm thinking about what's best."

"S'pose we could continually rewind the kittens' puberty until we find a proper solution. Buy us more time."

"It's pointless speculating seeing as how you crushed the wand."

Lister scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly at them. "Funny story actually…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm bringing back the time wand for reasons and you can't stop me.


	10. Of Wands and Wangs

“Lister,” Rimmer said sternly, “what did you do?”

“I thought the time wand could be useful, so I kept it.” Lister looked sheepishly at the ground.

“But you destroyed it. We saw you.”

“I had to, y’know? Make a big show of breaking it so no-one would try and get it again. Me and Kryten have spent the last few weeks un-breaking it and we think it’s back to normal.”

“Where is it?”

“Safely hidden away. No-one will find it, I swear, and don’t make that face at me, Rimmer.”

Rimmer pursed his lips up even more but before he could needle Lister further the Cat began to wake up. “Nooo,” Cat wailed as he came to. “Don't hack up the kittens. I don't want my family to be dickless.”

Kochanski stifled a laugh and explained softly, “Oh sweetheart, we're not going to do anything to the cats that isn't honestly for the best. They'll be healthier, calmer, they'll live longer, and more importantly they won’t be able to breed.”

“What’s the point of a long life if you don’t have a wiener? Might as well be dead!”

“For the last time, nothing will happen to their penis. They just won’t have the urge to mate.”

“They’re not missing out,” said Rimmer. “Females, pah! Believe me; women aren’t worth all the trouble they put you through. That’s why I prefer men.” Lister and Kochanski gave each other an amused look when Rimmer didn’t appear to realise what he’d implied.

“But no sex ever?” Cat was completely aghast. “What’s there to live for without sex?”

The humans looked at one another. “There’s um… the string game,” said Rimmer at length.

“And shiny things,” said Lister.

“Food of course,” Kochanski added.

“I guess,” Cat sighed. “Okay. You can noogie them.”

“Thank you,” Kochanski said and kissed his cheek fondly. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“Sides,” said Lister, “it’s better than letting them run wild and breeding. Hollister will find them for sure and they’ll be hacked up permanently.”

“Lister!” Kochanski snapped at him as Cat began to look sick. “Some tact, please.”

“Sorry, Kris. He needs to know what’s at stake here. I don’t want him flip-flopping on it.”

Cat suddenly leaped nimbly onto his feet and admired his family, cats and humans alike. “It’s cool. I can take it. Whatever I have to do for my guys, I’ll do it. I trust the Officer Babe.”

“Thank you. But don’t call me that.”

“Sure thing, babe!”

Kochanski inhaled deeply. Obviously the 'officer' part wasn't what she had a problem with. “Right," she said calmly, "we should probably get back to our cells for a bit. We’re starting to push our luck and Kryten can distract the guards for only so long.”

“I thought he was singing the entirety of ‘HMS Pinafore’ for them?”

“Yes but” – Kochanski checked her watch – “he must be at ‘Kind Captain, I’ve Important Information’ by now.”

The men stared blankly at her.

“It’s a song,” she explained.

They kept staring.

"Near the end of the operetta," she elaborated.

More stares.

“Nevermind! My point is we need to be going now. We’ll see you later, Cat.” Kochanski jumped into the vents with Rimmer’s help in giving her and Lister a leg-up. Kittens had encouraged Lister to manage his claustrophobia enough to put up with crawling through the enclosed space. The group parted at the other end of the vents and Lister and Rimmer made their way back to the men’s block, unaware of the trouble awaiting them.


	11. No Captain! Bye Captain!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you're not subscribed or check this tag often please be aware I updated another chapter a few days ago. Make sure you haven't missed it or you'll be as confused as Rimmer's sexuality.**

Lister and Rimmer were barely a few feet from their cell when they were approached by a guard. “Hollister’s down here. Wants a word,” he growled at them.

“He can have several,” Lister replied snarkily as they were hustled towards the guards’ office. “And none of ‘em nice.”

Hollister was waiting for them behind a desk with a saccharine smile on his face. “Howdy fellas, how’re you liking Floor Thirteen?”

“Love it. Wish I’d heard of it sooner. Would’ve changed my Fiji plans for here.”

Hollister got up with a great deal of effort and paced behind the desk thoughtfully. “You know why you’re here, right?”

“You really, really, really missed us?”

“Hardly. I have reason to believe that you still have a cat somewhere on board the ship.” He slammed his fists on the desk. “And I want it.”

Lister laughed at his ridiculous dramatics. The Captain could huff and puff and blow the whole Red Dwarf down but he was never going to tell him anything. Rimmer, however, was a weak link here. Lister glanced over at him. He was pale and sweating already. “Rimmer, it’s okay,” he whispered as Hollister began meandering up and down and barking about quarantine regulations. “He’s got nothing on us.”

“Yes he does, Listy,” Rimmer whimpered, his eyes flicking up and down from his cellmate to his shirt pocket rapidly. The pocket moved and Lister groaned loudly with the realisation of why.

Hollister stopped and scrutinised them. “Am I boring you, Lister?”

“Yeah actually.” Lister yawned and stretched out his arms to distract him. He could see Rimmer out of the corner of his eye, trying to casually cover his wriggling pocket with his hands.

“Good,” said Hollister. “Then I’ll continue.”

As he did so, he turned away from them and Lister took the opportunity to jab Rimmer in the side. “How could you not notice, man?”

“I thought the weight was my notepad. Little Dave is very little, as his name suggests.”

“It should be all right,” Lister mumbled. “So long as he stays qui-”

“Meeeeewwwww!”

_Smeg._

Hollister’s head snapped up. “What was that sound?”

“What sound?”

"Just then."

"Not me. Must've been Rimmer."

“That pathetic high whine?”

"Sure. That's how he always sounds.”

“Now see here, miladdo…” Rimmer began to rant, but then froze as Little Dave poked his head out of his pocket to see what all the ruckus was about. Hollister saw him easily through the unobstructive fingers and his eyes fixed upon the tiny black form. He grinned and walked around the desk towards them. Rimmer gulped. “Something wrong, sir?”

“Is that a kitten you’re carrying?”

“No sir,” said Rimmer as he looked over at Lister for reassurance. “It’s a chicken.”

Lister sniggered. It wasn’t a funny situation but Lister appreciated the sentimental call-back. Hollister went bright red with fury. “Give me that cat, Rimmer.”

“It’s not technically mine to give, sir.”

“All right then,” Hollister said sweetly. Lister didn’t like it when authority did that. More often than not it turned out badly for people like him. The Captain went back behind his desk and pulled out a stack of forms and slid them across the polished surface. “Did you know, Mr Rimmer, that there are ways for ‘favourites’ to become officers. You could become my ‘favourite’ if you like. No more prison, no more exams, no more interviews to take. Just a few scratched backs between you and the career you’ve always wanted. You’ll have a bigger room, a bigger bunk, a bigger position.” Hollister pushed the papers closer. “All you have to do…”

Lister gasped in horror as Rimmer immediately pulled the kitten out of his shirt. “Rimmer! You absolute smeghead!”

“Sir, if I might repeat myself,” said Rimmer as he ignored the daggers Lister’s expression was currently throwing at him, “the kitten is not mine to hand over.” In a split-second he had turned and chucked the kitten at Lister who nimbly caught it as it dug its claws into his chest in fright. Rimmer yelled, “I just want you to know that I hate you for this, David Lister. Now leg it!” as he dove over the desk and knocked Hollister backwards into the wall. Lister didn’t need telling twice. He dashed out and barrelled past the guards before they could react to the commotion. Safely round the corner he took advantage of the confusion to slip down a few corridors to one of their escape vents and used the time it took to get to the boiler room to contemplate just how deep a well of smeg they were now all in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Aaaah, I've been looking forward to this part. It was one of the first scenes I wrote. Go, Rimsy!**


End file.
